Over by the pond, a large green parrot blinked at Rosemary from a twisted tree branch, then moved back and forth along its knobby perch, turning its head from side to side.
She gazed at it, realizing her life with Richard had been like that bird’s world...enclosed in a home that seemed safe and protected, but oblivious to everything outside its beautiful glass house.
It was okay for a tropical bird, but her own sheltered world had been smashed and there wasn’t any way to put it back together.
CHAPTER SEVEN
BY SUNDAY AFTERNOON, Sarah felt as if everyone in the shop had run a marathon, cooking and serving food.
Her dad had shown up earlier that morning and insisted on taking the Saturday receipts to the bank, much to her annoyance. But they’d been so busy preparing a “down home” picnic for the Lindors that she hadn’t objected too loudly. It could be tricky dealing with him. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but she also wanted to be strong and not need his help. Sometimes she wondered if she would have ever learned to walk if he hadn’t brought her to live with her grandparents.
After the last catering vehicle had returned from Poppy Gold, Sarah went into the office and collapsed for a few minutes. She needed to train catering managers to handle jobs from beginning to end, but there just never seemed to be enough time to do that and keep the business running. Perhaps it would be possible now with Rosemary running the office so well.
One option...
Sarah yawned. Though the silent calls had stopped coming, she was still having trouble sleeping. Now she kept wondering what else might take their place. It didn’t make sense. She didn’t know anyone with a grudge against her.
She shook herself and got up; she had to keep moving or she’d never get through the afternoon. But when she went to the front counter to see how things were going, she saw Tyler through the front window and made a face. He was measuring again.
“I’ll be back,” she told Aurelia and headed outside.
“Still measuring?” she asked.
“Just getting ideas.” Tyler’s face was more serious than ever. “I’m restless. Usually I’m far busier and until I see your floor plans, my own calculations are all I have to work with. This gives me something to do.”
Sarah shifted her tired feet. “Not to beat a dead subject, but I don’t have the final report from the building inspector yet. Besides, I’m not...that is, if you don’t have other work, you should just enjoy being here with your family. Poppy Gold is a wonderful place to stay and relax. The activities staff make plans every day if you want something more structured.”
“Planned activities aren’t my thing.”
He sounded so dismissive that she was annoyed. “You could study the local architecture. Poppy Gold has a wide variety of Victorian structures, and there are classic Arts and Crafts homes around town, as well.”
“I’m getting the impression you don’t want my help.”
How did you guess? She had too much going on to add another complication. And Tyler was a huge complication, particularly with her hormones waking up. Just looking at him reminded her of how long it had been since she’d done more than date casually.
“I just think you have better things to do,” Sarah said carefully. It was a wishy-washy response, but having grown up as the pastor’s granddaughter, with strong expectations about her behavior, it wasn’t always easy to be blunt. Well...unless her dander was up, the way it had been the day they’d met.
* * *
TYLER’S MOUTH TIGHTENED.
He suspected Sarah had heard about the incident in Illinois and didn’t trust his abilities. Things were pretty bad when a business owner from a place like Glimmer Creek wasn’t willing to accept a free architectural assessment.
“I suppose you’ve told my mother about the mess in Illinois,” he growled.
Sarah lifted an eyebrow. “I’m not sure why you’re bringing that up, but are you saying Rosemary doesn’t know?”
“She and Nathan have enough to deal with. But you know exactly why I brought it up—you think I’m to blame, which is why you don’t want my advice. How did you find out? Online, I suppose.”
“Actually, my great-uncle was concerned about the way you behaved during your first visit to the bakery and asked the police to run a background check on you. I don’t have time to research people on the internet.”
“Why is your great-uncle involved?”
“Aurelia was worried and phoned while you were huffing and puffing and making demands. Calling him is a habit. Uncle Milt was our police chief until he retired a few months ago. Zach is his grandson.”
“Grandson? Only in a small town.”
Sarah narrowed her eyes. “Glimmer Creek might be small, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t careful about our police force. Zach has fourteen years of law enforcement experience in different parts of the country. He may have gotten a boost because of the relationship, but he’s well qualified for the job. Honestly, do you think everyone who succeeds here only did it because of nepotism?”
Tyler suspected he’d accidentally ventured into a sensitive area; Sarah seemed to have a fair dose of pride herself. After all, a branch of her family owned Poppy Gold Inns, so she’d gotten a “boost,” as well, with the sweet shop.
“I apologize,” he said. “That was uncalled for.”
She looked slightly mollified. “All right. Let me be clear, I’ve dragged my feet about your offer because I can’t afford to hire you and I don’t like being under an obligation. It has nothing to do with the other matter, which I certainly haven’t discussed with Rosemary. Besides, from the little I’ve heard, you’re an innocent bystander. I mean, there was another architect who came after you, right?”
“The owner wanted changes I believed were unsafe, so I quit and he got someone else who made the modifications. But now he’s claiming the error was in my original plan.”
Sarah made a derisive sound. “Of course he’s saying that. He’s trying to duck legal responsibility, in case it comes out that the collapse was due to his changes. But even if they weren’t, shouldn’t the new architect have identified any existing problems before they continued? It seems logical that the other guy messed up.”
Some of Tyler’s tension eased and he smiled. “You have a straightforward way of looking at things.”
“It’s...uh...easy when you’re on the outside looking in.”
“I could say the same thing about your renovations,” he pointed out. “Please let me make some recommendations as a more concrete apology for the way I’ve acted. You’d actually be doing me a favor since I don’t like being inactive. I need something to do.”
“Surely you have commissions.”
His gut twisted. “Because I’m officially under investigation in connection to the building collapse, most of my clients have backed out of their contracts, or else they’ve put their projects on hold.”
While it hadn’t been necessary to explain, the information had burst out from a dark place. It was as if he’d wanted someone to know beyond an impersonal lawyer.
Sarah reached out a hand as if to touch him, then she drew it back. “That must be difficult for you.”
“I certainly never expected any of my work to be connected to a structural failure. I even got a second degree in engineering because I wanted my designs to last forever.”
“Is that your dream?” she asked softly.
Tyler thought about it for a moment. “I suppose you could put it that way. Look at the Egyptian pyramids. They’ve been there over four thousand years and will be there long after we’re gone. The Great Wall of China is visible from space. And how about the Pantheon in Rome? It’s stood for almost two millennia.”
* * *
SARAH WAS BEGINNING to suspect an idealist might lie behind Tyler�
��s dark eyes—numb and deeply buried beneath a lifetime of restraint. It gave her an odd sensation, almost as startling as the brilliant smile he’d flashed a few minutes earlier...a smile that had nearly taken her breath away.
“The problems in Illinois aside, how is your dream going?” she asked lightly.
Tyler shrugged. “Okay, except nobody wants to build pyramids any longer.”
She bit her lip to keep from laughing, unsure if he was trying to be funny.
“I suppose not. Did you admire architectural treasures when you were a kid?”
“For as long as I can remember,” Tyler said simply. “My favorite spot was the Lincoln Memorial on the National Mall. I’d sit and watch the visitors’ faces as they walked up the steps. That’s where I decided to be an architect—so I could design buildings so extraordinary they made eyes widen and hearts beat faster.”
Sarah gulped.
It was a huge, sweeping dream, even bigger than she’d first thought. No wonder he wasn’t looking for marriage; his career ambitions were taking all his focus. And the incident in the Chicago area was another threat to everything he wanted. Assuming he wasn’t responsible for a flawed design, the damage to his reputation could still be substantial.
“I can see why you didn’t think having a bakery in my hometown is much of an ambition,” she murmured.
Tyler shook his head. “I shouldn’t have suggested that. My only excuse is that I grew up with a father whose life revolved around monetary success and status. Dad was horrified when Nathan went into the army, and he dismissed architecture, saying real prestige was in law. If he was alive today, I can well imagine what he’d say about my name being connected to the building collapse.”
“You don’t think he’d be supportive?”
“Doubtful.”
It was a single, flat word that revealed little. She sighed. What was that line...“just the facts, ma’am”? Most of the time that seemed to fit Tyler Prentiss—just the facts, with no hint of the emotions behind them. Even when he’d talked about designing great structures like the pyramids, she’d mostly guessed at his feelings.
She wasn’t accustomed to people who kept things locked so tightly inside themselves; it was exhausting.
“Maybe he would have surprised you.”
“I don’t think so. The only place where Richard Prentiss surprised people was in court. He was a brilliant jurist.”
If anything, the comment made Sarah feel worse for Tyler. She’d never experienced a mother’s unconditional love and support, but she got it from her father on a daily basis. That love presented challenges, of course, and she worried that Kurt’s life was too wrapped up with hers. She also felt guilty for wishing he’d ask if she needed something, rather than jumping in like a demolition team taking care of business.
On the other hand...it had been really nice during her divorce not to hear him say, I don’t understand why you married that creep in the first place.
Just then a large group of chattering tourists turned the corner and came down the street, and Sarah suddenly realized how long they’d been talking.
“Sorry, I’d better get back to work,” she said.
* * *
TYLER WAS DISCONCERTED to realize he wanted to prolong the discussion, though he didn’t have a good reason to delay Sarah.
“Of course, but first let me thank you for telling me about the clinic,” he said quickly. “Dr. Romano is quite knowledgeable about post-traumatic stress. He also recommended a physical therapist in Stockton, someone who’s worked with combat veterans.”
Tyler expected to hear, “I told you so,” but Sarah just nodded. “One of my aunts is a doctor at the clinic, too. Emma Fullerton. She’s great, but she doesn’t have a military background like Dr. Romano. Anyway, tell Rosemary I’ll see her tomorrow.”
“Will do.”
Tyler was troubled as he returned to Poppy Gold. He’d been interviewed dozens of times during his career, but he couldn’t recall telling anyone about what he’d felt sitting on the Lincoln Memorial steps. And if he had told anyone his aspirations as an architect, he didn’t think they’d ever asked how those aspirations were going.
He’d instinctively told Sarah things were okay, but were they?
And was okay enough?
Being a successful architect wasn’t necessarily the same as doing the kind of work he’d hoped to do.
Tyler frowned.
Goals were practical, dreams usually weren’t. People didn’t build pyramids any longer, and all too often they didn’t care if a building outlasted its profit-making potential. There were exceptions, of course, but aside from the private museum he’d designed in Italy, his work was becoming increasingly commercial in nature.
Not that there was anything with wrong that, but it was a long way from what he’d envisioned as a boy, sitting on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.
* * *
OVER THE NEXT few days Tyler made a concerted effort to avoid thinking about Sarah and the innocent way she’d made him question what he was doing with his career.
It didn’t matter anyway. Until the legal mess in Illinois was sorted out, he didn’t have a career.
On Monday he stayed busy with phone calls and dealing with medical releases. Then on Tuesday he drove Nathan to his first physical therapy appointment—it turned out the therapist was a former Marine drill instructor who didn’t mince words.
Sheepishly Nathan agreed to resume his daily exercises. Some of the exercises were to be performed in a swimming pool, so when they returned to Glimmer Creek, Tyler talked to the manager about letting them use Poppy Gold’s pool at 8:00 a.m., before the regular opening time.
“I don’t like getting special favors,” Nathan grumbled as he finished his first workout on Wednesday morning.
Tyler tossed him a towel. “It’s summer. The water will be packed with kids during the regular hours. You wouldn’t be able to move, much less exercise.”
“You’re the one who’s antsy around children, not me. If Pamela and I had gotten married, I might be a dad by now.”
“Do you miss her?” Tyler asked, trying to make the question casual. It was tough to know what would upset Nathan.
“Some. I was pissed at the time, but at least she was honest about it. Some women don’t want a military life.”
Nathan ran the towel over his shoulders. He was thin, pale, and his skin was marked by scars. His physical appearance was one of the reasons Tyler had arranged for private time at the pool, not wanting his brother to deal with stares and curious questions until he was ready.
“Hello,” called a voice from the maintenance gate to the swimming area.
It was Kurt Fullerton, and Tyler was interested to see Nathan square his shoulders. Maybe there was something to his mother’s claim about Nathan respecting the other man and being able to talk with him about common experiences. But why hadn’t he responded to the veterans he’d met in Washington?
“Hi, Kurt,” Nathan called back. “What’s up?”
“Not much. How did your workout go?”
Nathan pulled a T-shirt over his head. “My leg feels like rubber.”
“Yeah, muscles take revenge when they aren’t used enough.”
Tyler expected his brother to get angry, but he just looked tired. “Yeah, but no more lectures. Okay?”
“Okay. I’ll drop by after work.” Kurt nodded and left the way he’d come.
“We’d better get going before the hordes arrive,” Tyler urged.
They returned to the John Muir Cottage, Nathan silent and limping more heavily than he had on the way to the pool. He immediately sank onto a chaise in the garden and closed his eyes. Tyler brought his computer out to the suite’s porch to deal with his email, recognizing one of Nathan’s swift mood changes.
&n
bsp; It might be a symptom of PTSD, but it wasn’t easy to watch.
* * *
LATE THAT NIGHT Tyler was working at his drafting table, but his mind kept circling around the discussion he’d had that afternoon with Leonard Dalby, his lawyer in Illinois.
A special commission was being named to take over the investigation, and Dalby had petitioned to have the members drawn from outside the immediate area. He was citing conflict of interest since the county had approved the building plans and the contractor and owner were prominent local businessmen.
Tyler rolled his head from side to side to relax the muscles in his neck.
Dalby wasn’t overly concerned, but obviously he couldn’t make promises. Luckily Tyler had notarized documentation to show he’d advised against the modifications for safety concerns.
Just then, a sound from the ground floor caught Tyler’s attention, and he headed down the stairs to investigate.
Nathan had fallen asleep on the couch, but he was stirring restlessly and their mother was bending over him.
“Mom, stop! Get away!” He sprinted down the remaining stairs and lunged between them as Nathan threw out a fist. It connected solidly with his jaw, a second blow followed almost immediately to his eye. For an instant the world dipped, then Tyler regained his balance and dragged his mother backward.
“What?” Nathan mumbled. He looked dazed and barely aware of what had occurred.
“Everything is fine. Go back to sleep,” Tyler urged. He waited until his brother closed his eyes, then glared at Rosemary. “What were you doing?” he demanded.
“I just...” Her eyes widened. “You’re bleeding.”
“I’m aware of that.”
There was a warm trickle over Tyler’s left eye, and he went into the half bath off the hallway to take a look. The cut wasn’t deep, so he pressed a clean washcloth over the spot.
“You need a doctor,” his mother said at the door, her voice shaking. “I’ll contact the front desk. They’ll know who to call this time of night.”
Bachelor Protector Page 9
